What Happens in New York, Stays in New York
by rachel618
Summary: Bella Swan heads off to NYU to study film. She's got an interesting teacher who goes by the name of Edward Cullen. She came to NYC to explore her passion, but will she get more than she bargained for in the city that never sleeps?
1. Chapter 1: Angles

"This week we're going to be focusing on different angles. You know, camera angles! Can anyone name me a few?" No one answers. "You _are _all film students, aren't you?"

I reluctantly raised my hand. I was situated comfortably in the back of the lecture hall. I've been daydreaming for the past twenty minutes, but this is an easy question. Besides, the poor professor...if no one answers soon...

"Ah, yes, in the back. Isabella Swan, isn't it?"

I smiled weakly. Nearly half the eyes in the lecture hall were glaring at me. I could feel my face rapidly approaching an unattractive plumb-like shade. _Just answer the question, Bella! _"Um," I stammered, "Just Bella."

"Well then, just Bella," the professor smiled. I've always thought he was nice. "Can you name a type of shot for me?"

"Well, I mean... there's the wide shot, which is sort of ideal for landscape shots. Then there's a close-up, obviously. These are good for emotion, particularly where there's a lot of drama-"

"Good, good, Ms. Swan! Glad to hear _one _of my students is interested in her major!" I blushed again as my teacher singled me out.

I spent the rest of the class tracing circles over and over again on my notebook. I covered this stuff back as a junior in high school. Wasn't film studies at NYU supposed to teach me stuff I wasn't already aware of? I sighed and picked up my bag. The rest of the students filed out of the hall loudly, chatting and complaining about the work they had to deal with. Quite frankly, I was looking forward to when we got to do some of the challenging stuff. When did I actually get to shoot something of my own? Three weeks of note taking was really putting a damper on the whole _creative process _thing.

I pushed my hair back and straightened my sweatshirt out over my jeans. New York was certainly a long way from Forks. I still had _a lot _of adjusting to do; Freshman year may or may not be a rough one. I hadn't exactly made up my mind yet, as it was only the first week in September and I'd been here for barely a month. I sighed and shoved my notebook back into my bag, which unsurprisingly slid onto the floor, emptying its contents in a big arc under my desk. "Ah, crap." A day in the life of Bella Swan never goes complete without a little dose of humiliation. Or two. Or five.

"Ms. Swan!" called my professor from the front of the room. His voice echoed loudly among the empty rows, scaring me slightly, causing me to slam my head into the underside of my desk. "Agh!"

"Are you alright?" He called, but there was an unmistakeable note of laughter in his question. I looked up, and he was smirking. He was on his way over to me, heading smoothly down the aisle, climbing the hideously carpeted steps with ease. Why did he have to come over here now? Didn't he have some...teacher business to handle?

I'd never actually taken a good look at my teacher before. He was...undeniably attractive, unlike any other man I'd ever seen. Wow...how had I missed this? But looks weren't the only thing that made me suddenly unable to form a coherent response. He radiated confidence and...there was just something about him, the way he moved, smiled, and even _breathed. _He was the most graceful being I had ever seen; It was not possible for a person to be like this, no, it most certainly wasn't.

"Er," I stuttered again, still under my desk. "I'm fine, thanks, Professor Cullen." I stayed under that filthy desk; I was unable to move, rooted to the ground by the mere closeness of this man whom I've never really spoken to before.

"Well," he said breezily, "are you planning to get out from under there any time soon?" He was gorgeous, there was no other way to put it. And the way he was smiling right then...that lopsided grin could make me dizzy in and of itself. He had reddish brown hair and pale, spotless skin. His eyes were an odd golden brown color, and his body was like that of an underwear model on the billboard across the street. Underwear...

"Urgh..." I'm not exactly sure if I was entirely conscience at this point.

"Seriously, Isa- Bella, are you sure you're alright?"

His concerned gaze brought me back from, er, underwear land. "Yes, yes, I'm...I'm fine." I haphazardly shoved my things back into my bag, very, very aware of his gaze lingering on my back. Oh, he probably wanted to call an ambulance with the way I was acting. I stood up, uncomfortably pushing out of the crouching position I'd been in for the last five minutes. I couldn't help but look back into his eyes. How could he be a professor? He looked my age! Shouldn't he be in the rows, _taking _the class?

"Okay. You know, I haven't really had a chance to introduce myself individually to any of my new students." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Edward Cullen."

I took it, delicately pumping my arm up and down, unaware of what I was doing. All I could think about was how cold his hand felt in mine. "Bella Swan."

He continued to gaze at me, smirking. Unsure, I looked down at my feet. I couldn't control the blush that was moving steadily up my neck.

"Thank you, Bella..." He said abruptly, "for saving me in class today. I thought nobody was going to answer."

"Well, you know," I said, unable to stop myself from grinning slightly, "it's just the basic stuff. I'm surprised it was only me who raised my hand..." I swept my dark hair over my face. Grateful for the coverage my lengthy waves gave me, I hid and stopped talking.

"I'm grateful. Really, you're a lifesaver. I can tell you're going to have a good year in this class." He continued eyeing me, grinning again. Butterflies swelled in my stomach. So much for going out to lunch this hour.

"Well, I should...go." I turned to leave, kicking one of the desks in the process. I fell backwards onto one of the steps. Before I could make contact with the ground, though, a pair of strong arms shot out and cradled my waist.

Agh, he was touching me again. I thought I was going to melt.

"Thanks-"

"Edward. You can call me Edward. Not a privilege all students have, but hey. " He was so close to me; my lower back was brushing against his waist. I had to get out of here fast. He's my teacher!

"Bye!" I ran out of the room as fast as I can, to simply save myself from any more crazy thoughts or embarrassing maneuvers.

_Edward Cullen. He's certainly..._but I couldn't finish the sentence. There were no words to describe him exactly as he was. I unlocked the door to my single dorm room, slumped down onto my bed, and closed my eyes. Film studies was the last class of the day for me, so I drifted into an easy sleep. Edward's face still swam beneath my eyelids.

*****I'm writing two stories at once. I'll just see how far into them my mind wanders. This is what I do when I'm bored. So far, I really like this idea, as I'm going to study film in college soon. We'll see where it goes. I'm new at the whole website thing, so let me know what you think?**


	2. Chapter 2: Dorm Room Dreaming

"Bella," he breathed. We were climbing up the stairs to my dorm room, my hand pulling at his. He grabbed me abruptly around the waist, shoving my back against the wall. My hair fell to one side of my face and his lips were a mere centimeter or two from mine. He smelled so _good. _He was smirking again. His hand was tracing patterns on my leg, and I was having trouble focusing on anything else.

"We're not even there yet!" I giggled, nervous. He was a _teacher_, frolicking in the stairwells with one of his students. If anyone saw...

"Please?" He said, his face still nearly pressed against mine. His lips suddenly moved roughly from my jawline to my collarbone. I couldn't focus...

"No," I gurgled. I couldn't even say a one-syllable word. If he kept this up, I would surely slip down the stairs and he would do God-

knows-what with my unconscious body.

"Why not right here?" he practically begged. "Wouldn't that be _exciting? _Wouldn't the possibility of getting caught make you..." he bit my lip, and my intake of breath sharpened and made him pause. With much difficulty, I moved up the stairs, tugging again. Edward followed reluctantly.

I was barely half-way through the door before he was smothering me again. His lips were everywhere at once; I could hardly breathe. My mouth, my jaw, along the line of my v-neck, my cheek, and back again. Agh. He picked me up, not missing a beat. He continued kissing me. I was lying on my bed. He stopped for a moment, inches from my face, a question in his gaze. He raised his eyebrows. Edward was tugging at the bottom of his shirt. _Should I take this off? _

I bit my lip, and he took that as a 'yes.' Jeez, his body was incredible. I grabbed hungrily at his bare back as he leaned down to kiss me again. Oh my god. My knees were bent, locked at his hips; he was standing at the edge of my bed, leaning over me.

He bit my lip again sliding us both back onto the bed. My cot-sized mattress groaned under our weight, but we continued kissing wildly anyway. Before I knew it, my shirt was on the floor. _Since when did I have cute lace bras? _I shoved the thought away as he grinned, apparently appreciating the view. He kissed quick little patterns all down my torso. When he got to my belly button, all he did was look up with an expression only the devil can manage.

_"What?" _I asked breathily. He just continued to smile, and I was beginning to tremble.

"Nothing," he chuckled, as he proceeded to bite the button undone on my jeans.

"Oh. My. _God._" I could not control my breathing. Was he doing this on purpose? Did he want me to have a heart attack? I just got into college! I had a long life ahead of me!

He laughed quietly again as he sat up and unbuttoned his own jeans. He leaned down to kiss me again, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. His fingers worked at the zipper, and there was a rumpling sound of clothing sliding off of someone. He kissed my belly again, and then-_RING RING-_ he straightened his back, looking me right in the eye before he-_RING RING-_he chuckled yet again; my expression must have been-_RING RING-_He steadied himself above me, moving to-_RING RING-_

I woke up to the annoying blaring of my alarm clock. I rolled over, half expecting to find Edward Cullen there, smirking at me-_Edward Cullen? You mean your FILM STUDIES TEACHER? _I sat up, sticking to my sheets; I was covered in sweat. It all came back to me in a rush, everything clicking together in an instant.

_I was dreaming...about my teacher...he was about to-_we_ were about to...OH MY GOD! _

I rolled my eyes at myself, but I couldn't get over the fact that I was trembling slightly as I rubbed my hands over my face. I was, apparently, dreaming about having sex with my teacher. What was going on with me? I'm not one to...er, focus on the hormonal part of being a teenager. I never have; my mom always told me I was born an old lady. So why was I experiencing this, the morning after I had a harmless conversation with a man I hardly knew? _Seemingly _harmless, apparently. If this was what happened after all we did was chat for five minutes, I knew one thing was for sure; I was going to die after a year of studying with him. What was I going to do?

I mechanically got ready for the day; it was about ten in the morning, and I had my first class at 11:00. Since I was majoring in film, I had to take multiple film-related classes to fill my requirements...Ed-Professor Cullen, taught three of the five. Didn't he have enough on his plate with just one? Ugh, how was I going to face him this morning? I sighed, shrugging into a pair of roll-up sweats and slid a tank over my head. Overdressing for a lecture, in my opinion, is overrated.

I tottered down the tiny steps in the lecture hall to my usual spot. Thankfully, most of the other students were filing in as well, making the place noisy and hiding me from my teacher. I was determined to avoid eye contact with Mr. Cullen for as long as I possibly could. It was certainly better for my mental health that way, wasn't it?

Unfortunately, my luck ran out about five minutes after everybody settled down. It was as if he deliberately sought me out apart from the rest of the class.

"Ah, Ms. Swan. Eventful evening, I see?" he knocked on my little table top, smirking, and continued on, walking through the rows of chairs and chattering students.

He caught me rubbing my eyes; I froze completely, confused at his assumption. It made me wildly paranoid. _How could he possibly know? There is no way...he can't read my mind! No...can he? _I was far too immersed in my inner babble to actually come up with something in response. He couldn't possibly know what I dreamt about last night. But there was something in that smirk of his that told me he knew _exactly _what I was panicking about.


	3. Chapter 3: See you later, Ms Swan

The entire class went by as a blend of unintelligible words and phrases. I sat locked in my chair, under physical stress from my internal struggle. _Does he know something? No. No, of course not! Of course not...right? Right! _I fought with myself all lesson. Mr. Cullen seemed to be oblivious to my struggle, moving through his lecture without a care in the world.

At the end of the class, I shoved all of my notes into a pile with clammy hands. How the hell could one person make me feel this way? It was ridiculous. I was going crazy. I think. Crumpling my notes into my bag, I heard someone clear his throat. Oh, wonderful. I felt warmth rush up my jaw. My face was on fire. I bet I'd looked like a tomato. I slowly lifted my head to face the man haunting me in my sleep.

"Ms. Swan." He brushed his fingertips along the desk again with one sweep of his hand. I stared at it in horror. He pulled his wrist away so fast it was just a blur, and he quickly shoved his hand in his pocket. "You seemed a little...preoccupied in class today. I couldn't help but notice."

"Yes, well," I shot out of my chair and pushed the remaining book clumsily into my shoulder bag. "I'm a little overwhelmed. That tends to happen to college students, you know." The words came out in a rush, all in a single breath. My face continued to burn.

Mr. Cullen's gaze remained steady. "Ah, of course. I remember those days all too well." He seemed to be trying to fry my brain, how intently he was looking in my direction. I didn't know what to do with myself, so I began to hobble up the shallow steps towards the door. I took two steps at a time; a dangerous prospect for someone like me.

He grabbed my arm before I could shrug it off. His hold on my skin sent a shock up to my head and I no longer knew how to speak. "Agh," I gurgled, and it startled me how much I sounded like the Bella in my dream. He looked down at his hand, up to my face, and back down again.

"Now, why would you be trying to leave me so soon, Bella?" His voice was little more than a whisper. That's it, I was a goner. He was so close to me!

"I...um..." I looked down, unable to keep focused on anything in particular. Images from my dream kept flickering through my mind like a disjointed rated R film, and my knees shook a little.

Mr. Cullen chuckled at my hesitance, but did not back away from me. This was not the type of thing that happened to a girl like me! Fooling around with teachers, jeez. What would I do for Halloween, be a cop in a miniskirt? _We're just talking, we're just talking, we're just talking..._ my mantra was incredibly weak compared to the magnetic pull of his stare.

"I don't quite know how to deal with you," he breathed into my ear. "There's just something...about you that I can't explain." Mr. Cullen mumbled, trailing off to a nearly inaudible sigh of frustration at the end. My breathing hitched, heart ramming in my chest. No boy, no _man _has ever been this close to me before. His hand hung incredibly close to my waist. _What is happening to me?_ My vision pulsed as my blood rushed through my veins.

"Your reaction," he spoke slowly, so close to my ear that I could feel his lips brush against it as he smiled, "is..."

I was rooted to the floor. Nothing could make me move away from this man. He trailed his finger gently down my arm, and goosebumps rose along its path. He chuckled once more as he noticed the raised bumps and suddenly backed away from me, grinning. I shut my eyes tight and forced air through my nose. What just happened to me?

"See you tomorrow, Ms. Swan!" He bellowed across the lecture hall. "It was nice...speaking to you." He opened the wide double doors with a bang and left me hyperventilating on my little step.

Slowly, I remembered how to move again. I hefted my bag over my shoulder and carefully made my way up the steps. Opening the door, I wound through the little encounter in my head. _See you tomorrow, Ms. Swan. _


	4. Chapter 4: Running

That's it, I need to clear my head. I take a deep breath and hit the streets, still frazzled by the strange way Mr. Cullen spoke to me. It seemed to me that there were double meanings to each of his little comments, like he is inwardly referencing a joke only he can understand. Could this all be in my head? Honestly, we are on two completely different levels. I haven't even had a boyfriend before, and I'm just about to turn 19...a college student. What would a professor, one as good looking and charming as Mr. Edward Cullen want to do with me?

"_I don't quite know how to deal with you...There's just something about you that I can't explain..." _and then, nothing. How can one person shift like that, in the blink of an eye? I feel as though I'm left behind to pick up the pieces after a tornado has swept through a town when it comes to him and his ever-changing moods.

Whatever. I stop in the middle of Columbus Circle and stare at the gigantic stature watching over the fast-moving crowds. It looms, staring outward, an omen.

That's when I decide I'm going to loop around back to my apartment and go for a jog. Very unlike myself, I admit, but it's beautiful out and I've got all sorts of energy built up inside me, something buzzing not unlike adrenaline through my windy veins. After slipping on my trainers and plugging my headphones in my ears, I set out for the second time. But I don't wander, walking with my shoulder bag as the picture of a girl new to the city. This time, my feet angrily pound the uneven pavement with a new sense of purpose. I was going to run this confusion out of me if it was the last thing I did.

I hear the music, and my thoughts wander inevitably to Professor Cullen and his weird behavior. Part of me likes it, likes the attention he gives me and the way he sets my skin on fire without having to do anything but glance in my direction. But another part of me, a larger part, worries that this is the beginning of something dangerous...unhealthy. I've got a habit of obsessing over things that I find myself attached to. Is this another start to one of those periods of my life where I can't eat, sleep, or think without wondering about the object of my obsession? Or in this case...affection. I don't know. I just don't know.

What I do understand, is that Mr. Cullen's got a hold on me like no other man has ever had with me before. I feel a sort of connection to him when he speaks to me, and just thinking about it makes anxiety bubble back up to the surface. Even so, I find myself hoping I run into him on the street as my feet continue to rhythmically beat the pavement. It is a miracle that I haven't fallen yet.

After a half hour of running wildly along the streets and acquiring a multitude of dirty looks from passing New Yorkers in the process, I am out of breath and can only focus on the pain in my burning thighs and lungs. I smirk to myself. For someone who has always hated anything remotely athletic, a nice little run with music blaring in my ears has certainly done the trick. I check which street it is I've made it to and start my way back to my apartment at a slow walk.

It's been nearly an hour and a half since I left, frantically shoving my sneakers onto my feet. I'm nearly dead by the time I drag myself onto my bed. Jeez, Mr. Cullen, err, Edward sure knows how to wear a girl out, without even initiating contact, no less! Man, am I pathetic. But that's a discussion for another time, I tell myself. Now, it's time to take a well-deserved nap. My legs are going to be feeling it tomorrow, and I inwardly curse myself for making such a rash decision to suddenly morph myself into an Olympic runner.

I drift off to sleep, still sweaty and warn from my run, and once again Edward Cullen worms his way into my thoughts. Only this time I'm much too tired to push him away. I don't think I want to, anyway.


End file.
